Rendezvous

Admiral Serros stepped off the shuttle into the Leviathan’s landing bay. The situation was even worse than what he imagined. Soldiers crowded the floor: healthy, wounded, a few bodies that had yet to be disposed of. Medical personnel from multiple crews worked tirelessly with the almost non-existent supplies available to them. A few of the troops managed a salute, while the rest were too busy or too weary to respond.

The Second Battle for Crenel turned out to be a disaster. They were outnumbered, outgunned, and outmaneuvered, already suffering from heavy attrition resulting from their previous engagements with the Myrionith fleet. The 1st Fleet was in shambles, and the ships which remained were crowded to the brim with survivors of other vessels who could go no further. Now, the Marauder met its demise, and with it, one of the greatest minds of the NSI.

Serros carefully avoided stepping on his new troops’ toes, quite literally, as he made his way to the bridge. There was no proud marching, no officer’s salutes given by him. Decorum was dead for now, at least until he could secure his troops a different fate than that. He opened the door at the edge of the landing bay and prepared to move through another more crowded hallway.

By the time he reached the bridge, his boots had blood splattered on them, his uniform was looking disheveled, and his face wore the same weariness as the men did. War is hell, and they just fought one hell of a war. Serros was hastily handed a transmission from a passing communications officer as he walked in the door.

He read the message quickly, brow furrowed, before making haste to the central communication hub. One of the head crewmen looked up as Serros called over. The admiral handed the transmission tablet over to him.

“Officer, send the message to the rest of the fleet, urgent priority. We are pulling back to a safer location. Send these coordinates to the pilots and tell them to proceed to the ship there, callsign ‘Custodian’. The entire fleet is to dock there, receive assistance as needed, and stand by for further orders. You have your orders, soldier.”

“Yes, sir."

~*~"Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us." - Marianne Williamson